More by Monica Hand

The translator undresses. Tries on the shape of the work she translates. Stuffs her new belly with his engorged sex. Tries not to re-write his words tries to give her self over to his syntax. In the end, she wears her same nakedness.

volcano spews ashthick clouds that touch the heavenscover her body

transient—passing by or away from one place to another.

her thick fingerstrees damaged by a hard stormdowned power lines

rendering something written or spoken in different but equivalent form or state to a different place, office, or sphere by which information in messenger RNA directs the sequence

from the language of ash: the women in her family are beautiful and alone.

Drunkstheir breath their sweatespecially when they are lying on top of youor when they have fallen off of you and you are listening to them snore and fartwhen they are your father stumbling up the stairs or passed out on the sofain all his clothes smelling of cigarettes vomit and stale women’s colognewhen he is smacking your mother around and you can smell her nearyou are supposed to be sleepingwhen they sit next to you on the subwaywhen they yell “hey baby” as you are walking to schoolwhen they are happy dancing with their pants falling offslobbering on your neck playing cards talking shitjust mean